


Steven gets the coronavirus

by lime_lime_4



Category: Steven Universe - Fandom
Genre: Coronavirus, Crack, Dark Humor, Gen, Humor, Oneshot, Taxes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 09:47:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23349409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lime_lime_4/pseuds/lime_lime_4
Summary: Greg teaches Steven how to file his taxes so he can receive free money from the government.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 33





	Steven gets the coronavirus

Weeks of spring rain finally gave away to the first sunny day of the year. Steven could hear the lolling ocean waves crash against the warm sands of the beach from his room in the Temple. Sunlight cascaded down from the heavens to spill through soft, billowing clouds, bathing his room with light and resting on Steven’s pillow. It was perfect weather to wade through the morning tide and appreciate all the beautiful lifeforms that existed in the oceans of Earth. Unfortunately, Steven was kept inside by a quarantine.

Steven had resigned to watching TV one week ago. He had received an angry phone call from Nanefua the moment she heard that he had been teaching classes for Little Homeworld amidst the quarantine. One of her Ruby guards was attending one of his classes—"Discovering Your Identity through Life-Altering Trauma,” one of his favorites to teach—when she received the order from the mayor to place Beach City on lockdown. Steven couldn’t understand why Nanefua was so upset. It’s not like gems had the necessary physiology to catch or spread the coronavirus. Despite his insistence that he would be okay, Steven backed down after Nanefua started screaming at him about “zoomers” being selfish and not understanding public health.

He could respect Nanefua’s decision to call him given that he was half-human and could contract the disease. But thinking about the amount of productivity he would lose made him want to fucking strangle her. Steven shook his head, tearing himself out of his revenge fantasy to listen to the news. Thinking about murder was unhealthy, even if there was no way he would kill someone in real life.

“The president has decided to disburse payments of $1,200 to residents who have reported incomes of $75,000 or less on their most recent tax return,” the reporter said. “Please standby for further information. We understand that some may be concerned about the enormous financial burden this will place on future—”

Steven stopped listening. $1,200 was a lot. He could use the money to replace some of the broken equipment for Little Homeworld, or even to start transitioning his classes online with Zoom. He just needed something called a… tax return. Right on cue, he caught Pearl dragging Amethyst out of the depths of the Temple.

“You can’t just eat three metric tons of crayons. Just because it says ‘edible’ doesn’t mean you should eat it!” Pearl chided. They seemed to be arguing about something.

“Do you guys know what a tax return is?” Steven questioned. Amethyst turned to Steven as Pearl jumped, startled.

“Never heard of it. Must be a human thing,” Amethyst said, snickering at Pearl’s shock. “Why do you need one?”

“Apparently, the government’s giving out a lot of money to people who have one,” Steven replied.

Amethyst rolled her eyes. “Why don’t you just ask your dad for some?”

“I don’t really know what he does with it,” Steven said. “Dad doesn’t like to talk about his money all that much.”

“Then grab some from the Big Donut. They had plenty in the register last I checked,” Amethyst said.

“Amethyst!” Pearl warned. “Stealing is a crime!”

“It’s not a crime if the police don’t catch you!” Amethyst snapped back.

Amethyst sure had a point. Before Steven could further consider her words, Garnet materialized from the teleporter, carrying several boxes of N95 masks and other medical PPE.

“I have contained the sacred objects,” Garnet said. “These are going straight to the incinerator.”

“Garnet! Do you know what a—” Steven began.

“Amethyst is right,” Garnet cut Steven off. “But I predict that you have a lot to learn from talking to your father. Go ask him about tax returns.”

“Thanks, Garnet! I hope he hasn’t left for his tour already,” Steven said.

“But Garnet, stealing is wrong!” Pearl blanched, whipping around to face Garnet.

Steven slid on his favorite jacket and ran out the door, ignoring the rest of their conversation. The gems could argue about the strangest things.

* * *

Getting to the car wash was easy. Steven got there twice as fast as usual, stopping only once to let a family of kittens pass in front of his car. He saw no reason to obey traffic laws when the roads were completely empty. Steven was relieved to find his dad sitting next to his van, which was parked on the road adjacent to the car wash. Greg hadn’t been spending much time in the quarantined Beach City lately.

“Heya, Steven,” Greg strummed his guitar. “Shouldn’t you be inside?”

“Dad! Do you have a tax return?” Steven asked with a beaming smile on his face.

Greg immediately froze as his skin paled. Steven saw Greg’s face contort into an unreadable expression, a cold sweat breaking out on his father’s forehead.

“Why… why would you need to know that?” Greg asked after a moment of hesitation.

“Because I need one to get money from the government,” Steven replied without missing a beat. “I was hoping you could teach me since you have a lot of money.”

“Oh! Yeah, yeah, that’s easy,” Greg’s cheeks flushed as the color flooded back into his body. “I thought you… nevermind. Why don’t you follow me into the office?”

Steven hadn’t been in the car wash’s office since he was a toddler. Save for a pink diamond-encrusted throne and an extra file cabinet, the office was modestly decorated the way he remembered it. Other than Greg’s chair, none of the furniture had been moved since Greg started used the office. Steven remembered the time he almost choked on a dried roll of leaves he had found while crawling around under Greg’s desk.

“Alright, we just need these forms to print. I’m going to make a call,” Greg grinned at Steven. “You wait in here.”

“Who are you calling?” Steven asked, curious.

“You need something called a Social Security Number to file your taxes,” Greg answered. “Usually you get one when you’re born, but we had you in the van and never ended up getting you documented at the hospital.”

“Wait, should I go ask Connie’s mom? She’s a doctor so maybe she can get me one,” Steven said.

“N-no! Don’t tell anyone,” Greg instantly replied. His expression darkened as he muttered to himself. “When you grow up, Schtu-ball, you’ll learn that there’s nothing that money can’t buy.”

“What was that?” Steven blinked.

“I’ll be right back. Why don’t you start filling out your information?” Greg said, halfway out the door. He gestured to the printed stack of papers.

As his father closed the door, Steven moved to grab the papers from the printer. He didn’t sit down while filling out the papers. Steven couldn’t quite pinpoint what bothered him about the throne, but it simultaneously filled him with unbridled rage and made him want to cry. Deciding that having another identity crisis while filing taxes would be counterproductive, Steven turned his back toward the seat, saving it for Greg.

“I think I’m supposed to put one letter in each of these boxes for my name,” Steven thought out loud.

His pencil hovered over the first box. It didn’t look like his full name would fit in the boxes.

“Looks like I’ll just have to improvise. Good thing dad keeps graph paper around,” Steven said to himself.

Steven opened a cupboard and withdrew a piece of graph paper, scissors, and a stick of glue. He would just need to count out 28 more boxes to fit the rest of his name. Greg re-entered the room just before Steven made the first cut.

“That was pretty easy. Life’s easy when you have the right people on hand,” his father said. He looked up to see his son threatening a piece of paper with a pair of scissors. “What are you doing with that?”

“I can’t fit my name on this form,” Steven said, keeping his gaze on the paper.

“Oh Schtu-ball, you need your legal name,” Greg laughed.

“Wait, is ‘Steven Quartz Cutiepie DeMayo Diamond Universe’ not my real name?” Steven asked nervously. Did he need to fill out more complicated forms to change his name? He tried to push the identity crisis back out of his mind.

“Your _legal_ name, which you didn’t have until a minute ago. I hope that just ‘Steven Universe’ is fine,” Greg clarified. “You can still use whatever name you want in real life.”

Steven relaxed, glad that this wasn’t real life. Being an adult sure was confusing. Greg sat on the throne as Steven put the supplies back where he found them, both setting to work.

“Now, do you want to file as a business or an independent?” Greg asked.

“There was that one time Connie convinced me to sell my bath water online. Does that count as a business?” Steven said.

“Sure does, champ!” Greg happily replied. His son was shaping up to be a prolific entrepreneur just like him.

“It got taken down, though,” Steven sheepishly admitted. “A lot of people were mad at me for trying to sell something called ‘alternative medicine,’ even though I tested the water to make sure it worked.”

“People get mad at businesses all the time. Ethics and business usually don’t go together,” Greg reassured.

They steadily filled out the forms together. Steven was glad that his dad knew so much about handling money, learning “clever tricks” to make certain numbers as small as possible without “technically” breaking the law. His resulting income was a grand total of $83.04—slightly less than what two vials of his bath water had sold for.

“How do I submit these?” Steven asked.

“You can turn them in to the town hall,” Greg said. He peeked at the clock hanging on the wall across from them. “The financial office is on the second floor. It closes in half an hour, so you might want to hurry.”

“You’re the best! I guess I’d better get going, then,” Steven thanked.

He gave his dad a hug and ran back to his car. There was not a second the waste; he needed to get to the town hall as quickly as possible. Steven smiled to himself as he drove, glad to finally be getting back in touch with his humanity. He never could have imagined that human things like “tax returns” would be more convoluted than anything the Gem Empire had to offer. Perhaps it was time for him to slow down with the gem schtick and start appreciating his human side more.

Upon arriving at his destination, Steven flung open the door of his car and quite literally flew up the side of the building. Landing near an open window, he wrenched the screen off and tumbled into the second floor.

“HELLO! I HAVE COME TO FILE MY TAXES,” Steven yelled to no one in particular.

There was nobody in the room with him. Steven was lucky to have landed in the financial office, but it appeared that whoever was responsible for manning the counter had left early. Steven searched the table, sifting through several stacks of sensitive financial information. He happened upon some forms pertaining to the Maheswarans and made a mental note to remember Connie’s SSN in case she ever forgot it. Thankfully, it only took a few minutes to find the cabinet labelled “tax returns.” He didn’t want to stay past the office’s closing time.

After sliding his papers into place, Steven closed the cabinet and jumped back out the window. He did a somersault as he gently floated back down to his car. Satisfied at his productivity, he drove back home to reward himself with ice cream and rest.

* * *

Steven was startled awake by a hand shaking his shoulder.

“Greg’s on the phone. He wants to talk to you,” Garnet said.

Steven rubbed his eyes, groggy. It was only 1 PM, meaning that he had only gotten 5 hours of sleep the night before. The quarantine really had a way of messing up his schedule. He took the phone from Garnet and held it to his ear.

“Hey dad, what’s up?” Steven yawned.

“I think I might’ve caught something from you, Schtu-ball,” Greg interrupted himself with a coughing fit. “Have you been around other people recently?”

“No, but I kissed every surface in Beach City just before the quarantine. It was part of a project to beautify the town with nature,” Steven answered.

“Have you been tested for the coronavirus?” Greg pushed more urgently.

“No,” Steven hesitated. “I’ve never been sick in my life.”

Garnet rested a hand on his shoulder. “Many cases are asymptomatic, Steven.”

“Garnet, did you know that this would happen?” Steven turned to face the tall gem, horrified.

“Yes. I told you that you would learn something important from meeting your dad,” Garnet replied grimly.


End file.
